


A Cold Fire

by strand__buckley



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Evan "Buck" Buckley Needs A Hug, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Original Character(s), PTSD sort of, Pre-Relationship Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, This takes place after Buck Begins, Worried Eddie Diaz
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29523423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strand__buckley/pseuds/strand__buckley
Summary: Buck was in no mood for socializing, but when the knocking returns slightly louder, he composes himself and heads to the door. Reaching for the handle, quickly closing his eyes, and collecting his disengaged thoughts, he tugs gently at the door opening it to reveal his best friend, staring at him through questioning, concerned, but kind eyes.He lifts his arm to reveal a small bag, containing Buck’s absolute favorite donuts, a knowing smile gracing his features.Few things make Buck happier than someone remembering minuscule things about him, as if what makes him happy matters. His lips quiver before giving way to a slight smile, the first time he’s felt some semblance of normalcy for what feels like an excruciatingly prolonged amount of time.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley & Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 122





	A Cold Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo! I'm back with only my second fic ever! I didn't know if I was going to continue writing but after the kind words over my last story, I felt the desire to write another one. It's a welcome distraction from school and takes my mind off of everything going on.
> 
> Anyways, this was originally going to be one chapter but it kind of got away from me! I hope you guys enjoy it! Please let me know what you think. :)

The sunlight peeked through the loosely slatted window, painting his face with a buttery glimmer. The homely sensation settling on him and seeping through his skin, warming him to his core. Buck shifted slightly, rolling his head reflexively, trying to evade the sun as it aimed to capture him and pull him away from this rare moment of utter serenity. His brain had yet to catch up to his blind movements and all Buck felt was peace. He sighed lightly, willing his body to melt into the mattress, as sleep had him in its grasp. Just as Buck felt himself drifting, a gentle hand nudged his shoulder slightly, causing him to startle, a mumble an octave above a barely audible whisper stumbling from his lips. The nudge comes again, more insistent this time.

“Buck,” Eddie’s quiet voice, piercing in the stillness of a new morning, aims to draw Buck’s attention.

Buck pushes his face into the pillow, relocating the one he spent the night hugging tightly, a form of comfort, and moving it to sandwich his head, blatantly shielding himself from the disruption at bay.

The nudging returns in full force, persistent, rapid, _annoying_ , but still soft.

”Ed-die” Buck drew out his name in two whiney syllables, “why are you doing this to me?” A muffled voice squeezed out through the pillows, quiet enough that the older man has to crane his neck and shift closer in order to hear it. 

Buck felt the bed dip as the insistent intruder invaded his space and languidly yanked the pillow from beneath his limp arm, exposing him, against his will, to reality.

_24 hours earlier_

When Buck rolls over for the hundredth time since he tried to welcome sleep six hours ago, he squeezes his pillow with the force of someone begging for salvation and desperately trying to will sleep to take him. He begrudgingly decides it wasn’t in the cards _again_ and forces his eyes open despite the invisible force he feels fighting his decision. His eyes were dry, vision blurry, head _aching_ , as he mindlessly removed his hand from the warmth beneath his pillow to rub his eyes with the fervor of someone who is already done with the day.

Buck hears it before he sees it: the rain. He audibly sighs breaking the stillness of an unsympathetic, empty, apartment. His eyes sting and he blows out a shaky breath, ever so slightly, cracking the glass castle he’s built protectively around himself, as all defenses are down, a side effect of the bone-deep exhaustion he’s felt sink its claws into him, refusing to give him a reprieve. 

You see, Buck used to love the rain and the gloom that introduced it. Where others saw a dull overcast gloom as a suffocating sign of a lackluster day lying in wait, Buck saw a calm world, in splendid silver-blues. Where others saw the chilling rain as a disruptor and chaos creator, Buck saw the growth that was waiting to blossom as the grime and sins of the past were chased away.

Scores of trauma have fused together and settled like a weight on Buck’s life. Unbridled, unrelenting, _unforgiving_. Closing his eyes is not an escape, but a burden where he’s thrust into the darkest moments of his life, no life raft to reach out to, only solitude. 

Buck shifts from where he’s lying, moving into a horizontal position, dragging the blanket with him, and forcing a pillow under his head, to blankly gaze at the rain pelting his windows as the day fights to break through the night. Buck just stares; he doesn’t see the rain with hopeful eyes like he used to. He sees the rain as an echo chamber for the pain his trauma continues to cause him; not washing away the past, but threatening to drown him in it. 

Some may wrongfully assume Buck is lonely. May misinterpret his fear of ending up alone as him being unable to handle being alone. The opposite couldn’t be more true. Buck believed once he mastered the art of being alone, he would be ready to welcome others into his glass castle. The thought scared him, as he had erected it to protect himself from the horrors of the world and the loneliness of his childhood many, many, years ago. The thought of letting someone in and allowing them to see all of him, instead of peering in from the outside, terrified him.

So as Buck watches the rain, the cold fire trauma settling as a vice on his heart, squeezing with just enough force to make his eyes sting, Buck forces himself into a sitting position, less than gracefully swinging his legs off the side of the bed to find his footing on solid ground. He grabs his phone to shut off the alarm before it can go off, his unquiet mind coming in first yet again, and tosses it on the bed, as he drags himself to the bathroom, the thought of a warm shower a welcomed reprieve.

As the water traces his body, hugging him with warmth, Buck rests his head against the cool tile, a stark contrast but achieving its desired success in calming him. His eyes flutter shut and his mind wanders to the mayhem of the past week, and the total upheaval of the life he thought he knew.

His mind is an echo chamber and Maddie’s words are trapped. Coming to terms with having a brother who died is one thing, but trying to make sense of being a donor baby born only to be a savior, and then failing, is nearly impossible to swallow.

The complete desolation and isolation he felt as a young boy manifested in recklessness and a total lack of self-preservation. Buck associated pain with love and that was so ingrained in him that even as an adult, those feelings have never subsided. But Buck never understood why though, always just believed that’s how life was meant to be for him.

A gentle sigh fell from his lips as he absent-mindedly drew his hand from his side to shut off the water, the knob squeaking slightly, breaking through his thoughts. Buck blindly reached for a towel and let muscle memory carry him through the motions of getting dry and dressed, as he stared at nothing on the floor.

As Buck saunters downstairs, his mind thinking about nothing else besides acquiring a cup of coffee, a gentle rapping emanates from the door reverberating through the apartment. Buck’s previously downcast head shoots up, a puzzling look gracing his features. He takes a moment to peer around his apartment as if the answer would somehow be provided. 

Buck was in no mood for socializing, but when the knocking returns slightly louder, he composes himself and heads to the door. Reaching for the handle, quickly closing his eyes, and collecting his disengaged thoughts, he tugs gently at the door opening it to reveal his best friend, staring at him through questioning, concerned, but _kind_ eyes.

He lifts his arm to reveal a small bag, containing Buck’s absolute favorite donuts, a knowing smile gracing his features.

Few things make Buck happier than someone remembering minuscule things about him, as if what makes him happy _matters_. His lips quiver before giving way to a slight smile, the first time he’s felt a semblance of normalcy for what feels like an excruciatingly prolonged amount of time.

Buck steps back slightly, taking the door with him, to make enough room for Eddie to shuffle through. 

“I was just about to make some coffee if you want some,” Buck intones, shuffling to where the coffee pot lies in wait.

“Yeah, that would be great,” Eddie responds warmly, repositioning himself, so he’s standing at the island watching Buck carefully.

The following minutes pass by silently, Buck in no mood to converse, but feeling unbothered in the slightest by Eddie’s presence. He may not want to talk, but the older man standing there is an anchor for him in any way that matters.

And Eddie, well Eddie knows. Buck’s eyes flicker over to follow his best friend's movements as he delicately pulls out a chair from the island and sits down. He looks up at Buck, eyes lingering for a beat longer than usual, as he pulls out his phone and diverts his attention to it. And a thought flashes across Buck’s mind about how right this feels but is gone as quickly as it came.

Buck fiddles with a spoon as he waits for the coffee to finish brewing, as he zones out on the two mugs waiting patiently to be filled. It isn’t until Buck hears his name flowing from Eddie’s mouth, a slightly louder intonation in his voice indicating this wasn’t the first time he tried to get Buck’s attention, that he registers the incessant beeping indicating the coffee is done.

He startles slightly, head tilted down, as he glances at Eddie, whose concerned eyes are watching him carefully, before redirecting his focus to preparing two cups of coffee. 

Buck turns around carefully, setting a cup in front of his best friend, before meeting his eyes. Eddie is quick with a smile, and Buck sets his own cup down next to him before meandering around the island to join his best friend.

They sit in comfortable silence as Eddie reads something on his phone, and Buck counts tiles on his backsplash, trying to suppress the spiraling thoughts fighting to breakthrough.

He sighs faintly before mindfully reaching over, placing his pointer finger on the edge of the bag of donuts and dragging them over to him. He glances at Eddie briefly, who's already waiting with a content smirk.

As he begins munching on a donut, feeling marginally better, Buck barely registers Eddie repositioning himself in his seat to angle himself closer, before his best friend starts, “So, I was thinking we could ride together to work, and you could come over later and lose to Chris in video games.” 

It’s a statement with an underlying question, but regardless of whatever mood Buck is in, he cannot resist the Diaz boys.

Buck tilts his head slightly before smiling softly and directing a gentle nod towards his best friend.

“I can’t guarantee I’ll be the life of the party, but a Christopher hug sounds pretty nice right now,” Buck responds quietly, the first spoken indication that he’s not _really_ all that fine.

Eddie nods knowingly, staring at the guilelessly wide, doleful, pale blue eyes before him, before resting his hand on Buck’s forearm, squeezing reassuringly, and smiling.

“Well then we should head out,” Eddie states before standing and grabbing both his and Buck’s mugs and setting them in the sink, tilting his head over his shoulder and finishing, “and Buck - we want you with us no matter how you’re feeling, but especially when you’re hurting.”

Eddie redirects his focus to the sink to rinse the mugs before placing them in the dishwasher. Buck is waiting by the door, bag slung over his shoulder, hoping he’s doing a relatively decent job at keeping his emotions that are threatening to incapacitate him, at bay. Eddie just brushes by him, placing a gentle hand on Buck’s lower back before leading him out the door.

\+ 

The drive to work is silent, and it’s starting to be a bit unsettling. Buck, who had been mindlessly staring at the road turning the warehouse fire over and over in his head, wondering if he would have been able to save Saleh, had it not been for his team, was starting to get anxious. Desperately wanting to escape the prison he was building around his mind, Buck lifted his head from where it was propped up on his fist, to glance at Eddie.

“So are we just not going to talk?” Buck inquires, feeling exasperated.

“I just figured you would talk when you were you know -” Eddie motions around the truck with his fist, mindlessly, “ready.”

“Yeah, I appreciate that, but god Eddie, we could talk about Christopher or you, or a new show you’re watching on Netflix, literally _anything_ , but instead you’ve spoken a total of like ten words to me in the past hour.”

“What do you want from me, Buck?”

“I just want my best friend to talk. Get me out of my head. You could talk to me about the weather for all I care, just let me hear your voice,” he pleaded with Eddie.

“Okay, okay, Buck, whatever you need,” Buck thought this was possibly the softest Eddie has ever sounded, and he felt the stinging sensation return to his eyes. 

Before his emotions could swallow him whole, Eddie begins to talk. He starts rambling about Christopher. His school, his art projects, how he misses being physically present in class, some of these stories Buck had already heard, but he knows why Eddie is telling them again: because any mention of Christopher aids Buck in being able to breathe just a little bit easier. 

As they pull up to the station, Eddie shuts off the ignition, shifting in his seat, and stares at his best friend. Buck suddenly felt minutely self-conscious, anticipating the conversation that was awaiting.

“Buck -” Eddie started.

“Eddie, can we please not do this now?” Buck unbuckled his seat belt, pushed open the door, and slid out of the car, forcefully dragging his feet towards the station.

Suddenly Eddie was in front of him, startling Buck slightly, as he felt Eddie’s palm firm over his heart, “Buck, come on. It’s me,” the older man tries to get Buck to look at him, moving his head aimlessly trying to lock eyes with a distant Buck’s. Right in front of him.. but a chasm between them.

Buck gazed over Eddie’s shoulder, staring at the firehouse, his mind dragging him away from the present, much like the wave that took him from Christopher. He felt adrift, like he wasn’t fully aware, as his mind, seemingly against his will, streamed his childhood before his eyes like a movie he had no desire to see. He only faintly registers the strong hand sliding around his wrist, attempting to pull him back to the present. 

But Buck - he was lost.

He was back in the warehouse fire, trapped with Saleh. He could smell the smoke, he could _taste_ it, and he felt the weight of his soaked turnout coat pressed against his body. He couldn’t breathe. It’s not being trapped and nearly dying that’s drowning Buck at this moment, it’s the feeling of almost giving up, how close he was, something Buck promised himself he would _never_ do. 

At that moment, when tears mixed with sweat and water from the persistent sprinklers, he felt more alone than he had in his entire life. His screaming was a tired combination of pent-up despair but also worked to give him strength, as he tugged desperately at the rigged ax trying to save a life, with absolutely no regard for his own. Because that’s who he is, and he couldn’t live with himself any other way.

Buck always felt like he wasn’t good enough and he never could quite understand the hollow feeling in his chest that developed at a young age, when he just wanted his parents to hear him; to _see_ him. As the angry flames glowered around him, Buck just felt tired. But Buck, he was so far from who he was: the careless young boy who did everything he could to get his parents to love him, even when it caused him pain. As Buck fought with everything he had to save Saleh, he fought against his past, his trauma, and he just felt _sad_. Like he didn’t know who he was anymore. Hell of a time to succumb to this line of thinking.

All Buck knew was that he was still far from who he wanted to be, who he wanted to build himself into, pulling on the ax tirelessly, losing sight of the man he already is.

When the tank wouldn’t budge, and his leg slid out from under him, his fist slamming into the pooling water below him, screams tearing through him, Buck’s head met the concrete, praying to whoever was listening to _please_ give him a hand.

And that’s when Eddie showed up, and Hen, Chim, Bobby; the family he built for himself here. 

+

He felt another tug on his wrist, and a warm hand firm against his cheek, moving to cup the back of his head. He faintly registers his name being called, but he still feels stuck somewhere else. 

“Buck!” His name is much louder this time, and he shifts his focus to Eddie’s piercing and extremely concerned gaze, as he tries to focus and push down the anxiety threatening to suffocate him.

As Buck takes a deep breath, briefly closing his eyes, before meeting his with Eddie’s, he glances at his team watching the scene unfold before them, but staying back as if understanding that Buck _needs_ space.

“Where were you, Buck? One second you were here and the next I lost you,” worry and something resembling fear, gripped his best friend’s voice. 

“I uh - I think I shouldn’t be here,” Buck’s eyes flickered to Eddie’s, as shame coursed through him. Buck side-stepped Eddie, before heading over to Bobby, and relaying essentially the same thing to him.

“Of course kid, we’ll see you tomorrow.” 

As Buck turns on his heels to head back the way he came, Bobby places a light hand on his forearm, gripping slightly, before walking forward and wrapping Buck in a homely hug and saying: “if you need anything, and I mean anything, please call me.”

Buck nodded in the older man’s shoulder, the father figure he grew to see as family. He closes his eyes briefly, trying to control the emotions pushing at the edge of his eyes. He breaks the embrace and turns around to face Eddie.

When Buck stops in front of Eddie, the older man immediately reaches down to grab Buck’s hand and places his keys inside. 

“What about you?” Buck inquires quietly, holding Eddie’s gaze.

Eddie just shrugs before motioning over to their team with his thumb, “I think I can corral one of those clowns into giving me a ride” a smirk creeping onto Eddie’s face.

“But um... Buck, I want you to go to my place.” Before Buck can protest he reminds the younger man, “Chris is there, and so is Carla. You can help him with his schoolwork, and I’m also about one hundred percent certain that you would make him the happiest kid in the world by being there.”

Instead of responding, Buck steps forward and wraps Eddie in a hug. It’s not as brief as the hugs they’ve shared in the past, and it’s also exactly what Buck needs at this moment. He gives Eddie a slight squeeze before stepping back, giving him a slight nod signaling his agreement.

“Thank you, Eddie, I - uh” Buck stumbles looking for the right words, “Just.. thank you.”

Eddie just smiles warmly at his best friend before telling Buck to call him if he needs anything.

Buck nods, twists on his heels, and begins to walk away just as the first tear falls. 

**Author's Note:**

> I think this show tends to gloss over all the trauma Buck has experienced. Buck has been through so much emotional and physical pain, that I feel like the show doesn’t acknowledge it enough. I don't believe he should be consumed by his trauma, but I do think ignoring it sends the wrong message. Buck Begins was the first insight we've had into the loneliness of his childhood, yet it explains so much about why he is the way he is. I hope moving forward the show acknowledges everything he 'continues' to go through, instead of just having him move on without looking back.
> 
> *The glass castle is in reference to the memoir of the same name.


End file.
